So Much More
by GloomyBumblebee
Summary: Sequel to Time-Travel.


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A/N: I'm high on joy right now. After seven long years, Mark Owen is releasing new material. So I was listening to his first album while rereading the end of Time-Travel and I thought: "hey! Why not make a sequel?" and then 'My Love' started playing and... well... I ended up writing a little (sort of) songfic.**  
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**Title:** So Much More.**  
Author:** Gloomy Bumblebee.**  
Rating:** PG.**  
Genre:** Slash. Romance.  
**Pairing:** Harry/Draco.**  
Warning:** Sappiness ahead, so... read at your own risk.**   
Disclaimer:** I don't own HP nor do I own Mark Owen. I do wish I could, though.**  
Summary:** Sequel to Time-Travel. What happened during Harry's summer vacations.  
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**So Much More.**  
  
  
  
Since Harry arrived at the Durley's after last years' incidents, he'd been on some sort of trance. He had never once left his room, except for having dinner (that was his only meal of the day) or going to the bathroom. He had spent his days reading or drawing, or even writing. He wasn't an artist and had no talent whatsoever, but somehow these activities seemed to help him overcome his frequent depressions.  
  
None of his relatives noticed, nor did they try to, but Harry was bordering insanity. He had never felt so alone in his entire life and, considering the conditions in which he was raised, that was saying quite a lot. That fateful night in which he said his final goodbye to Tom had left him emotionally exhausted. He had lost the one person he ever truly loved and who offered just the same love in return. He'd never have another one to look after him, to care.   
  
Or that's what he thought.  
  
And that's just the root of his dilemma. He was having unthinkable feelings for someone and he was feeling guilty. He was sure he'd never love like he loved Tom, but he couldn't help but feel. And what he felt was strong.  
  
The one person he'd never even thought of being close to, was now the one he was falling for. It wasn't as deep and powerful as love, but it wasn't a crush either. It was something in-between, unnerving, traumatising.   
  
Draco had offered his hand in friendship back in the sixth year boys' dorm last year. For the first time Harry accepted it willingly, earning himself a new ally. A new friend. But now he was aiming too high and what little hope he had left was falling apart.  
  
What Harry didn't know was that Draco, back in his luxurious room at Malfoy Manor, was thinking about him.  
  
* * *  
  
Draco knew every little detail about Harry's short relationship with Tom Riddle. He new how much Harry needed the affection Tom had provided him and that it was the other way round as well. Both boys had been essential to the welfare of each other and now one of them was dead and the other was devastated. He wondered if Harry never thought of killing himself. The mere thought sent shivers down Draco's spine.  
  
He knew he would never occupy the place Tom had left vacant, but he couldn't help but feel he might be able to help Harry out of his misery. Just by being with him as a companion could be beneficial for the both of them. After all, Draco was just as alone as Harry was. He'd never had much attention from his parents. His mother cared for him, just as any mother would, but she wasn't someone to show her affection. That was a sign of weakness, according to the Malfoy absurd rules. Now, if you come to think about it, the Malfoys have all been bloody cowards. Half of their rules babbled about not being weak, but they've always counted on a higher, more powerful force above them. They never got things for their own means, and if they couldn't even bear to cry, they were utterly pathetic.  
  
But Draco was different from all of them. He still wasn't used to letting his emotions slip, but he had always thought that crying was not a sign of weakness but of strength. Hence, he wasn't even remotely preoccupied by doing such thing this summer. No, not at all. But what was really bothering him, were the reasons that he was crying for.  
  
He was in need. And what he needed he couldn't have. And what he couldn't have was Harry's love.   
  
He had decided though, after a thousand tears had been dried, that he would pay a little visit to the Dursleys. If he couldn't have Harry as a lover, he could at least have him as a friend. The proximity would kill him, but the distance wasn't any better. He would find little comfort in being so close to the body and so far from the heart, but he would find the purest joy in seeing Harry happy. And that was what he had to do. Make Harry happy.  
  
He would be patient and wait for the boy to accept him. He would stand by his side, offering comfort and he would be content with that.  
  
Smiling in the most desolating way, he picked a light cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders. He told his mother he was going to visit a friend and, as usual, she asked no more. He went into the living-room of the Manor. Once he had a handful of Floo Powder, he stepped into the fireplace.   
  
"Number Four, Privet Drive."  
  
And he was gone.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry was writing a few lines, reflecting on Draco. The funny thing is he didn't really notice he had been writing about the boy. In his stupor, he reread his writing and found it was quite good. He snorted to himself. He'd never written anything so beautiful in his entire life and he hadn't even imagined he could. But he did and Draco was to blame, no less. He was so surprised, he almost missed the shrieks and screams coming from the Dursley's kitchen. He ventured down the stairs and into the source of the uproar and what he saw made him clutch at his stomach to stop it hurting, so hard had he laughed.  
  
Draco was brandishing his wand at the Dursleys while straitening his cloak (which was covered in a greenish grey dust courtesy of the Floo ashes). The people in front of him were bouncing all around the room like maddened kangaroos. Harry didn't know why Draco had ended up hexing them but he didn't really care. After seeing Dudley sweating from exhaustion and Vernon and Petunia cursing under their breaths at the insubordination and lack of respect... no, he couldn't care less. What mattered now, was the fact that Draco was there.  
  
When Draco noticed him staring, he smiled broadly. Regaining his stern demeanour and emphasising the bass in his voice, he addressed the Dursleys. "That's enough." The sulking souls froze in their spot. Draco smirked. In a business-like fashion he pocketed his wand, before adding, "seeing how good you've behaved, I'll spare the little dignity you have left. Now, if you excuse me, I'm here to spend some quality time with Harry. Hope you don't mind..."  
  
Harry nearly clapped his hands. Such a brilliant performance, such a masterly finale. Oh, yes, Draco knew exactly how to manipulate people. And it made the more sense when he realised the blond hadn't hexed the Dursleys, but merely threatened them. Oh, yes. A bastard indeed, but he had style.  
  
Draco followed Harry to his room. Once the door was closed, he shook off his dusty cloak. He was wearing what any normal pure-blood would call muggle-wear. Black leather trousers, a tight black-cotton sleeveless tee, and black laced-up boots clung perfect to the blond's slim figure. Harry's mouth hung open for a second before he smacked himself mentally for staring at Draco in such a way.  
  
Draco sat on Harry's bed. He was eyeing the place in its every detail. It was the first time he'd stepped into that house. Harry sat in front of him, on a chair he'd pulled from the old, rusty desk next to the wall. He had forgotten that his little piece of writing was lying on the bed.  
  
It wasn't long until Draco noticed, and he started reading aloud.  
  
  
_No one ever tried to tell or show me  
So I finally figured it out for myself  
That what you need  
Is someone who without you can't breathe_  
  
  
Harry was red from the roots of his unruly hair to the tips of his toenails. Draco merely surveyed him from the corner of his eyes, before reading in a low whisper (that sounded almost like a gasp) the one word scribbled repeatedly all through the paper.  
  
  
_Draco_  
  
  
So it was dedicated to him. When had Harry assumed he liked him? Was it back in last year when, facing Voldemort, he'd clutched the boy's shoulders protectively? Was it, perhaps, when on the train back home he'd been staring into nothingness, nervous but calm, unable to meet the eyes of the one he secretly loved?  
  
The answers lacked, but he had yet more questions. The short verse implied that Harry had similar feelings. He was offering himself to Draco, to be the one bringing life into him. He gazed into watery emeralds, searching for the final answer.  
  
  
_Today I feel a change  
In the way you look at me  
And all I have to say  
Is I like it_  
  
  
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was trying to avoid the piercing gaze of his beloved, but couldn't help but meet it from the corners of his eyes. He had to escape. He wanted to leap out of the window into oblivion. Anything that could just separate him from Draco. He couldn't bear to see him.  
  
  
_Today I see a change  
In your glowing loving emerald eyes  
And all that I can say  
Is that I feel it_  
  
  
Draco saw him fidgeting from side to side on his ruined wooden chair. He could sense he was uptight, a little afraid as well; he could see that in his eyes. He wanted to throw himself at the boy, but he had to be careful. He may be interested in him, but after all that's been going on, all the tension and despair... he had to choose the right words. He had to express himself as accurately as possible. He couldn't portray himself as a replacement for Tom. He was well aware that Harry had loved the boy with every pump of his blood and he would, quite probably, never get over him. He had to accept he'd never be as loved as Tom had been.  
  
But before he had the chance to talk, Harry had apologised. What for, he wasn't sure. But deep down inside, he knew Harry was confused. And he knew what he meant, but he was willing to make him understand he had nothing to be sorry for.  
  
  
_Today I hear a change  
In your gentle whispering singing voice  
And all I have to say  
Is keep talking_  
  
  
Draco had to say something and he had to say it now. He measured each of his words carefully, studying the message in its whole. He was going to be open to the boy, tell him his exact feelings. No disguising the facts, no silly decorations. He had nothing to be ashamed of, anyway.  
  
  
_You are everything to me  
You are everything I need  
You make this world for me  
You are all that I could be_  
  
  
Harry seemed to have lost track of time. He was now standing still, resting his back on the closed door. He had the most ambiguous of looks. Fear, guilt, joy, shock, passion; all emotions mingled in one. Draco was plainly terrified. Had he said the wrong thing?  
  
Probably not.  
  
He knew he had nothing to regret when Harry moved to where he sat and pulled them together for a kiss. The sweetest kiss Draco had received in his entire life. The purest form of affection.  
  
  
_Today I felt a change  
As your hands they touched the soul of me  
And all I have to say  
Is keep touching_  
  
  
Draco lost himself in the depths of Harry's embrace. He was genuinely happy. For the very first time, he had nothing to regret, nor he had anything to be afraid of. For the first time...  
  
  
_I never knew, what love was all about until I started looking at you_  
  
  
There was nothing left to be said. Draco and Harry were finally together. All the expectation welling up inside of Draco's chest and the uncertainty paining Harry's mind with unreasonable thoughts seemed to fade away as smoke. They were together and nothing else mattered now.   
  
Just as Draco caressed the soft mane of raven-black, he smiled._  
  
  
My love, and so much more than that  
My love, and so much more, so much more_  
  
  
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**_A/N:_** Just one thing... the line 'in your glowing loving --- eyes' was a little altered. See the lyrics below. I don't really like romantic songs, but some of them just get through you, and this is one of those. You just have to love it.  
  
  
  
MY LOVE (Mark Owen)  
  
  
Today I feel a change  
In the way you look at me  
And all I have to say  
Is I like it  
Today I see a change  
In your glowing loving chestnut eyes  
And all that I can say  
Is that I feel it  
  
You are everything to me  
You are everything I need  
  
My love, and so much more than that  
My love, and so much more, so much more  
  
Today I hear a change  
In your gentle whispering singing voice  
And all I have to say  
Is keep talking  
Today I felt a change  
As your hands they touched the soul of me  
And all I have to say  
Is keep touching  
  
You make this world for me  
You are all that I could be  
  
My love, and so much more than that  
My love, and so much more, so much more  
  
I never knew, what love was all about until I started looking at you  
No one ever tried to tell or show me  
So I finally figured it out for myself  
That what you need  
Is someone who without you can't breathe  
  
My love, and so much more than that  
My love, and so much more, so much more  
  
How I wish that I could be like you  
How I wish that I could feel like you  
How I hope that I touch you like you  
How I hope  
  
My love, and so much more than that  
My love, and so much more, so much more  
  
  
  
_For more information on Mark Owen, go to _


End file.
